where parthenogenesis has not been observed

Confronting people with more than 160 characters is a daunting proposition in this day and age, but Witkacy is worth knowing; there're pictures.


I could (do) e-thumb through i-archives all day long.


Goodness, I'd accumulated some gloomy links. I'll strive the cull the chaff for the wheat, as it were: Bulgarian stamps...


This whole series of valentines is adorable, but this one sings songs to me.


I want another tattoo.


This is one of my favorite movies.


Thai Book Covers...


Whatever happened to Team Fun?



From teens, onto the oldest things in the world...


I have sooo many of these albums...


Sorry for rushing and mumbling, but I've got stuff...


C.R.E.A.M.


Squid Ink.


These are the best video games.

I've actually got oodles more to post, so keep peeled.

If you laugh at how I eat baklava, I will hit you and then cry.

"You need to put tacks in your back pocket and call them your thinking pants." -Gordon Shearer, Urge to Smack Yourself-

I feel like a new shirt or the cool side of a pillow. I'm unsure of my voice; thinking casually accumulated entertaining tidbits, collected almost at random and presented haphandedly, or, at worst, halfheartedly offered are spurious in their merit and sparse rewarding of lengthier inspections. I feel Winter starting to break and close shop. It's a ways away but heartening to think of those passing few moments before the frost begins to knit itself back over. With this fuel, I hope for heartier bread to be read.
Their phrasing is adorable.


I miss using a darkroom, but still worry about the lasting effects the chemicals and their fumes had/have/will have on my systems. Still, I miss the smell.


I love how the worlds of some painters are populated by their recognizable breeds of people, like Schiele, or, hell, Modigliano.


I'd like to have a mask handy for unforeseen masquerade balls.


Hiroshige's One Hundred Famous Views of Edo are in Brooklyn?


Speaking of ART in the city, Matt Stuart's working is hilarious.


I got a guitar.


For no reason, Iggy and Debbie (reason enough).

Abandoned Constructions.



I dread the morning train sometimes.

Robots (via Angora Mint)

5.13 24.11 13.16 9.13.5 5.13 24.11

I miss Europe some days more than others now.


I'm distracted today. It's Valentine's Day, so I, as most, am thinking about either sex or death.



I spent most of yesterday in bed and under weather. I'm full of Thai food in the middle of the day. I'm going to read and then make awkward phone calls.

I'd rather not be alone today, but, then again, that's most days.


Maybe I should drive around the neighborhood and ask people if they'll help me load some furniture into my van.


I can't seem to quit doodling distractedly...

.

I wish I could doodle like this guy doodles, oodles.

Old Pr0n.


The rest of my day will be stranded in futon.



Should I start posting mixtapes here? would you listen?

Quick Hi

In the introduction to The Americans, Kerouac wrote, "that little ole lonely elevator girl looking up sighing in an elevator full of blurred demons, what's her name and address?"50 years after it was taken, the same woman stared at it for a good few minutes before realizing that it was a picture of her as a child; she never even saw the camera.
I don't know where that came from because I was thinking about Fellini and posthumous birthdays (his just was). I stared at Frank's book for hours on end before losing it in an ill-advised loan to a lesbian couple from Michigan. I've watched 8 1/2 lots of times too. Marcello Mastroianni's death was one of the rare celebrity passings that managed to slip a little something past my emotional goalie.


He oozed insouciant cool in a way that makes me attentive as opposed to jealous. Then again, I also love it when people are desperately and obviously trying to be cool and succeeding.




As far as cool goes, Werner Herzog.


.

Loaned Boot Horn

I'm doing a turn for more along the lines of Gang of Fours debut: ENTERTAINMENT!
This is from Ukraine's Got Talent. This may, for some, automatically brings to mind bad borat benny hill tricks-with-a-donkey scenarios: and we're better for Simon Cowell and Susan Boyle?

I'm doing this post on a blank computer without any of my bookmarks; follow the breadcrumbs...
Japanese Bridal Catalogues.


from there, I became friends with the ballerina project on facebook while listening to RZA as Bobby Digital on Stereo.


I wrote a paper in college comparing the experience of puberty to the role of the monster in any of the Universal creature features of the '50s; both overwhelmed by uncontrollable urges which conspire with society to destroy the individual with little nothing romantic about it. I caught Nosferatu the first time on late night tv at about age 12. Our PBS would drop awesome classic horror flicks at an age when Jules Verne owned my worldview, eating Sherlock Holmes stories like candies. The theme to Nosferatu still grabs my ears, and it's in public domain, to boot.


and because that movie gives me the creeps and makes me feel like I heard something skitter across nearby linoleum, the Ratboy movie. It was directed by Sondra Locke, who dated Clint Eastwood and and appeared in lots of his flicks as The Girl. Any Which Way But Loose was an incredibly important movie to me and its soundtrack was the only tape in my Dad's van for Yeeeears. I still know all the words, and its sound is so my comfort food... Particularly, Orangutan Hall of Fame.


My friend Catfish got so excited once when he'd met a girl whose favorite movie was Ratboy. Vinyl on Demand has released Die Große Untergangsshow aka Festival der Genialen Dilletanten. This the whole 80s-Berlin-proto-post-punk scene. I know it's in German, but I find an emotional commonality between this and No New York's punchier bits. It's easy for me to pay attention to Blixa Bargeld. He's like Klaus Kinski to me.


They used to be such big tough guys and now they're lovely pop; the awesome awesome video overcomes any lachrymose sentimentality; that, and the hat.